Always Watching
by Lunar Siren
Summary: The struggle Edward faces when he first sees Isabella Swan, from another perspective. One shot.


**AN: Stephenie Meyer owns **_**Twilight**_**; no copyright infringement is intended. The quotes used from **_**Midnight Sun**_** also belong to her.**

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The way he watches her is peculiar.

Since lunch he was frustrated by her lack of thoughts; it haunted him on his way to class. Why could he not hear her? Where were the images, the inane whining all human females seem to do? Like the Stanley girl—oh, if only he could not hear her thoughts. She made a vampire wish he were dead in the ground. The constant jabbering, the backhanded compliments, the desperate pleas for attention. Would she never stop?

But this Swan girl, she was different than the others. Why? Her hair was no different than the next brunette, her eyes, although deep, were still a normal color; she had no discerning features whatsoever. So why was her mind empty? Was she that stupid? Or perhaps she had a supernatural power, could shield her thoughts against him.

He laughed at himself. What a ridiculous theory.

He took his seat in the biology classroom, his mind trained on one thought only: Isabella Swan. Why, he was no better than the walking blood bags he belittled at lunch. He had fallen for the shiny object so easily! Her untouchable thoughts dangled in front of his face and he snatched them up like a greedy babe. How sickening. But he wouldn't put them down; he'd twist and pick and pull until they all spilled out. He had to know what she was thinking.

But why the fascination? Why did it matter so much to him that he could not see past those brown eyes? Simply because he never met a human he could not hear; it was irritating, and he could feel the inferiority biting at the base of his skull when he told his siblings the troubling news. No, he'd find a way before he ever admitted a weakness. His family already had ways of keeping him out; he would rather listen to Arabic and 70s tunes than silence.

He relaxed in his chair. Yes, nothing was wrong. He would not let himself radiate the frustration he felt inside. He was a mountain to his classmates—nothing moved him, and nothing ever would, including this Isabella Swan.

As if his thoughts summoned her, she entered the room, Angela Weber at her side. He concentrated, surprised there wasn't a hole forming in her head with the intensity, but still . . . nothing. Not even a whisper. Was he losing his talent? He grimaced. Definitely not. The pig, Mike Newton, was as loud as ever.

He ignored Mike's ogling of the new girl and watched her intently in his peripheral vision, walking down the aisle beside him, a little uneasy on her feet. Without much thought he cleared a side of the table for her, the seat next to his being the only one available. Why did the thought of her sitting so close almost make him . . . _giddy_? The hour ahead of them gave him a chance to just sit and decipher the inner workings of her mind. Highly doubtful he'd find anything worth a listen, but it was a challenge, and this pathetic human was making him feel weak. He refused to believe it.

It was when she passed the heater that things went wrong. Suddenly all thoughts of her mind were gone. He no longer cared about what she thought, he cared about how she tasted. Thick and sweet on his tongue; so warm sliding down his throat.

_I am not human; I am a vampire. _His fingers gripped the edge of the table as she approached, scent growing stronger, flooding his nostrils._ I am a predator and she is my prey._

Her face turned red when their eyes briefly met; it didn't help at all. He felt like a beached fish. He fought the need to take a large lungful of her smell. The piece of table he held shattered in his deadly grip. _Destroy the evidence._ His mind raced.

How could she do this to him? Why was she able to uproot his discipline? Why should he let it happen?

He couldn't deny the hunger inside him. He hated the thought of killing so many innocent children—even regretted what he'd do to Mike Newton, of all people—but it was necessary. He had to have her. Just once. If he lived beyond today, if he ever found someone so appetizing, if he had the strength, he would run. But today he wouldn't be strong.

_I could snap four or five of their necks per second. It would not be noisy._

Then Isabella Swan would see the monster coming for her and scream. If the room was wiped out in a matter of seconds, he could rush the girl, kill her painlessly, drink, and make his escape. No one would know until someone checked the room later; by then he'd be at least half a state away. Would he leave his family in danger for his own greed? Carlisle would never respect him if he went through with his plan, he could already see Esme's disappointment. They would be better off without him.

A moments' reprieve, salvation in the smallest sense, in the form of unscented air helped him think rationally.

Of course Carlisle would forgive him, the man was a saint; he would understand and offer his support. Visions of running away—that was just cowardice. If he went through with it he was afraid to live with himself. One little slip and the monster could control him forever. He wouldn't allow it. He would control his savage impulse and reject the girl—for his family.

The girl sat stiffly beside him and before he could get another whiff, he leaned away and held his breath. _If I can resist for one short hour I can get out of this room full of victims._ He dared not think of the girl beside him, bent forward over the table, her mahogany hair a thick curtain between them. It reminded him he had yet to decipher her mind.

What an irritating human! He couldn't read her mind, nor could he kill her! Who sent such a horrible creature to punish him?

His eyes followed the ticking of the clock. The second class ended, he'd bolt—but what about Isabella Swan? He could lure her out of the school. _Two dark raincoats heading the wrong direction wouldn't pique too much interest, or give me away._

No, he wouldn't do it. Too many people would know. After school—yes, there was a thought. Her father would be gone, house empty, no neighbors. He wouldn't give her time to scream. He'd strike quick then slowly draw the taste of her into his mouth, gorging himself on the succulent taste of freesia and strawberries. The thought was so rich he nearly moaned out loud.

He passed the hour envisioning her death, all the ways he might take her. He only had one chance; he wanted to make it pleasurable. The last time he had human blood was seven decades ago. One human wouldn't hurt anything—at least, that was how the monster viewed it.

The bell was loud in his head. During his fantasies he forgot to watch the seconds, but it didn't stop him. He grabbed his books, slid from his seat, and darted out the door without thinking how it would appear to his classmates. He couldn't be trusted around humans any longer. He ran to his car, taking great gasps of the cool, wet air to clear his airway. He could barely taste Isabella Swan on the back of his tongue now. It helped clear his head.

He'll be okay.

"Everything alright in la-la land?" Jasper asks, pulling me back into the present. He's stiff around the dawdling humans in my class, still trying to fight everything that he is, but he hid it well. He helps me up from my seat, making sure my legs are steady before offering his arm to escort me from the room. My southern gentleman.

Watching Edward struggle in class was horrifying for me; he is always so unmovable, basically dead, that seeing Isabella bring such a reaction from him worried me. He would never really kill someone but I almost believed he might have, in that moment. But it's over; he's okay.

I know the road ahead will be rocky for him, but if anyone can do it, he can. Edward is the rock of our coven. If anything, the Swan girl will play a bigger part in his future than he thinks. I could look ahead but the future is always changing; nothing is set in stone. So what can I say to Jasper? He knows the flaw of my ability as good as anyone. I'll keep a close eye on Edward and Isabella, just wait how it plays out before I give him a real answer. Maybe I can get to know her as a person, to help Edward? It's always fun to make a new friend!

"Alice?"

"Like a fairytale," I answer with a smile.


End file.
